


The Meanings of Family

by Ressick



Series: A Seattle Grace Family [3]
Category: Grey's Anatomy, Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ressick/pseuds/Ressick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arizona Robbins talks to her best friend, Maura Isles, at various points between seasons 6, 7, and early 8.  Not Mark Sloan friendly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meanings of Family

**Author's Note:**

> It started when I wondered why Arizona had so little support during the Musical Event except for her awesome boy Karev. So in this little universe, she does. Calzona with hints of Rizzles.

"She wants kids, Maura," Arizona said into her phone, sprawled across the big, empty bed in the apartment she hadn't spent a night in for months. But with the child issue now out in the open, she had needed a little space. Calliope wasn't off shift for another few hours; she had time to get back to her girlfriend's apartment if she could work up the courage.

"Many women do have that urge."

"I'm fully aware. But I can't. I can't." Arizona heard the familiar sound of the crack of ribs being split open. "Are you talking to me while you're doing an autopsy?"

"Yes. I find it to be a useful method of multitasking. And with the time difference between Seattle and Boston, sometimes we have to make do with what opportunities we have for conversation, no matter that you might find it distasteful."

"I don't have a problem with forensics or autopsies. You know me better. That was your last girlfriend, oh, and that weird guy you dated for awhile in the spring."

"It's unfortunate that not everyone can appreciate the art and science of my profession."

"Some people just don't like the smell of formaldehyde and decay. Their loss, you're awesome. Can we get back to the kids thing, please?"

"You have frequently stated your preference for a childfree life in the past. Was it not a topic of discussion in your current relationship?"

"I think we were just too happy in the now to talk about the future, if you know what I mean. I want to give her everything she needs, but kids? I can't do kids."

"You are a pediatric surgeon. And you are aware of the many methods available for same sex couples to become parents. The issue isn't of what you can't do, but of what you won't. You would make a wonderful mother, Arizona, despite what you have said to me."

"Not. Helping." She heard her best friend huff. "I know I'm perfectly capable of conceiving, or donating eggs, or would pass the background check for adoption. But a bit of biology or a legal document doesn't make you a mom. You know that more than anyone." She could hear Maura's indrawn breath over the phone and instantly regretted her words. "I'm sorry, that was a low blow."

"My issues with my childhood notwithstanding, Arizona, I have known you for fifteen years and you have yet to tell me exactly why you don't want children."

Arizona was silent for a long moment. She could hear the quiet clatter of Maura working over the phone, occasionally pausing to write down her observations or measure an organ. "You'll think I'm ridiculous."

"I thought you were ridiculous when you bought your first pair of wheeled sneakers and then promptly broke your coccyx."

Groaning, Arizona resolved that she would have to make sure Maura never told that particular story to her orthopedic surgeon girlfriend. If their relationship survived to that stage. She took a breath. "I don't want to risk becoming my father."

Maura was quiet for a moment. "I'm fairly sure you're not referring to suddenly becoming a retired Marine Corps officer. Or a man. I do know that when we were in medical school you were rather reticent about introducing me to your parents, even though they were only at Fort Devens and we were in Boston."

Rubbing her free hand over her face, Arizona nodded, and then realized her best friend couldn't hear a nod over the phone. "He was a hard man to grow up with. When he was around. And when he wasn't, mom was so busy trying to do everything for us, and work at her job. Tim and I basically raised each other a lot of the time once we were old enough to stay home alone, as much as mom tried. She was great, she was, but she couldn't make up for all the stress he put on the family. I didn't realize until college that most people don't learn to be silent around the house to avoid waking their father in the middle of the afternoon, or that depression is treatable instead of something you soldier through. Literally."

"Despite the difficulties of your childhood, you and Tim were and are remarkable and well-balanced individuals," Maura noted. She had met Tim several times before his last tour in Iraq, and the two had gotten along well. The Robbins twins were enough alike to both appreciate a unique individual like Maura Isles. "And your depression has been under control for several years." Maura would know. She'd been the one to insist that Arizona get treatment during a particularly bad patch their second year of med school. And again a couple years later when Arizona's ex, Carly, left her. She'd made the call to Tim and Arizona's childhood friend, Nick, and offered their couch to him while they both cajoled her back into therapy and an adjustment of her medications.

"Tim was. I'm not always, you know that."

"Your brother did seem to avoid the chemical depression issues that have caused you trouble in the past. Or is it more the family dynamic problems that you are referencing? Because it's not a guarantee that you'll repeat the mistakes of your parents should you have children. You are well aware I want a family. Do you think I would raise a child the way I was?"

Arizona thought of the string of nannies Maura had described, the emotional distance between her parents and herself, the awkwardness Maura's brilliance made of social interactions in adolescence and college, until she was assigned a perky, hyper roommate their first year of med school. It was Arizona who had brought Maura out to her first bar, taught her to dance something besides the ballet she'd been forced to learn as a child to inspire grace (Maura was naturally graceful, she was sure), and it was Arizona who helped her best friend fill a large plastic kiddy pool with sand in a corner of their student housing's tiny living room when Maura brought home a six-inch-long tortoise named Bass. "You could never be like that with your child, Maura, you know. You're one of the warmest, kindest people I know."

"Then why do you assume you'd make the same mistakes your father made, Arizona? I've seen you with your patients. You're wonderful with children. I know this is something you're very firm on, and have been for as long as I've known you. But the way you talk about Calliope is different from the way you talked about Carly, or Tiffany, or Katherine." Maura heard a groan as she listed off the major relationships her friend had gone through in the past fifteen years. "You never talked about the future when you were with them. But you do with Calliope. You talk about coming out to Boston to visit, going with her on that Spanish vacation you've always wanted, and even if you should move in together. Think about it. Think if you can imagine a family with Calliope. Maybe not tomorrow, or next year, but sometime." She heard her friend's shrill beeper go off. "You can call me later, Arizona. Just think about it."

"Thanks, Maura. I will. Be safe."

X-X-X-X

Arizona curled up into the corner of a bunk in one of the more remote on-call rooms. She locked the door, and buried her face in her knees. Pulling out her phone, she dialed Boston.

"Isles speaking."

"Maura, it's me."

"Arizona? Why are you calling me from a new Seattle number if you're supposed to be in Malawi?"

"I came back. For Calliope."

"You love her. Of course you did."

"She slept with Mark. While I was gone. She's pregnant."

"Oh." Maura heard a sob come from the other side of the country. "Does she not want to be with you anymore?"

The sobbing grew louder before Arizona gasped out, "She wants me. She wants me to be all in. But how can I? If Mark's the father?"

"There is no option for third parent adoption right now. It is a risk. You're thinking of that patient back in residency aren't you?"

 

"Yes! I had to hand a child over to homophobic grandparents because the stupid  _law_  said her living mother wasn't her mother!"

"Those children were conceived in a very gay-unfriendly state, in the 90's. Laws have changed somewhat for the better. But in this situation, if something happened to Calliope?"

"Mark stares at my boobs. I can't stand him except in small doses, and then only for Calliope's sake. I don't see that situation going well.  _She slept with him._ "

Maura was silent for a minute. "I can have my lawyer look into what options might be available to you in Washington state. Perhaps some kind of three person custody agreement or, for the worst case scenario, provisions in a will. What part of this, admittedly difficult, situation is hurting you the worst, Arizona?"

"I don't know!" Arizona cried, dissolving into more sobs. "I was just getting to the point of thinking, maybe in a couple years, we could start looking into sperm donors or adoption or  _something_ , but then the Carter Madison. And now this. I love her, I love her so much."

"Do you love her enough to co-parent with Mark for at least eighteen years, in a situation in which your legal rights to the child might be nonexistent-to-shaky? In which your child might physically remind you daily of how Calliope engaged in intercourse with someone else while you were on a different continent?"

There were upsides and downsides to being friends with one of the most honest and forthright people in the world. Arizona had known that for years. But as necessary as they were, each of Maura's questions was like a stab through the heart. She started to say, 'I want to,' but what came out was a ragged, "I do."

"Then I'll speak to my lawyer tomorrow. I'll find out what options you have, Arizona," she promised softly.

"Thank you," came over the line in a soft voice. And then the words that she'd never spoken in nearly fifteen years of friendship. "Maura? I've got some savings, it took a hit with this whole thing, Malawi and plane tickets, but I might have to borrow a little. I need to buy out our subletters. I can't have her living with Mark. On his couch, now, but it was his bed that got us into this."

Maura smiled. This had to be love. Maura had always been open about being willing to help her friend financially, once she understood that she'd gotten through college on scholarships and grants and was not from the most well off background. Fiercely independent Arizona Robbins had, when offered a room in the house Maura's parents had bought for their daughter after their first year of med school, insisted on paying her way with food and laundry duty and yardwork. She had, of course, promised never to cook the food, only to buy it. Maura had acquiesced, and then arranged an anonymous grant to cover a majority of her friend's med school tuition that wasn't already covered by scholarships. "Of course. I'll wire you whatever you need when I'm finished with work today."

Arizona laughed softly, "She said once that all her relationships suffered because of her parents' money. It never affected us, not really, except when her father cut her off, and that was because of her reaction, not mine. I don't think she understands that my best friend is from the Isles of Massachusetts."

"Most likely not. Our families are in quite different social circles despite our similar economic levels. I've of course heard of the Torres from Miami, but never met them."

"Rich people are crazy." It was an old joke between them, something Arizona blurted out when Maura had first shown her the house the Isles had bought in the Back Bay for their daughter.

"I believe the term you want is eccentric."

"Maura?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Arizona."

X-X-X-X

In the midst of panic and despair and shouting at Mark and having her worst fears come out of his smarmy mouth and having to save the baby's life and begging Calliope to live, Arizona was too exhausted, too emotionally beaten, too still in pain from the accident, to do as Maura had asked and call the moment Baby Girl Torres was born. Instead, she instructed Karev to write up the accident, the subsequent surgeries, and the delivery for her in an email, which she promptly forwarded to her best friend with a single paragraph of her own,  _They're alive. I'm terrified. Mark said I was nothing. I don't know what to do. I asked her to marry me and a truck came out of nowhere._

Maura called just after Calliope had woken up to say yes, asked after the baby, and then fallen back into a deep, medicated sleep. Luckily Karev had tucked her phone into her scrubs when he helped her change, cleaned up her scrapes, and done a basic check for other injuries. That was all she let him do, not giving any more time for herself in her desperation to get back to her girlfriend and the, at that time, unborn baby. Part of her knew she should be thankful nothing else actually was wrong with her, because she would have dropped dead by now if there had been, and no one but Karev seemed to care about her. (She forgot, in her shock and grief, about the handful of her peds nurses who tried to check on her that she ignored, and Kepner's gentle entreaty about her head laceration. She knew Bailey and Teddy were too busy saving Calliope to help her, but it still felt like an abandonment in this hospital where she feels utterly alone while surrounded by her fiancée's friends.)

Karev, the woman who just agreed to marry her, the baby, and the friend making her phone vibrate in her pocket, that's who her world narrowed down to in the moment. She fumbled, grabbing the phone before the noise of the vibration could wake Calliope. Which was ridiculous, her fiancée was out cold, and she wanted to cry, again. Her fiancée.

"Robbins."

"Arizona. I just received your email. Has there been any change?"

She translated that into what her friend was silently asking,  _Are they both still alive?_  It's what she would ask with the litany of injuries they suffered. Maura knew as well as any other doctor, better perhaps, what can kill a person. "Yes. Calliope woke up, briefly. She said yes. And the baby is stabilizing. She'll need additional surgery but…" Her breath caught in her throat.

"And you, Arizona? Your friend's write up included your injuries as well. How does your head feel?"

She should have scanned that email more thoroughly. She wasn't aware Karev had included her. Of course he did. He may be peds, but she had been his patient, too. The only one she let touch her except Calliope in the past few days. "The headache cleared after several hours, and Karev's kept an eye on me. I'm fine, Maura." She didn't mention that he and Kepner kept bringing her food and drink, trying to tempt her into eating. They didn't bother trying to make her sleep, but shoved donuts and coffee in her hand instead. She'd been running on pure adrenaline for two days already.

Her tone must have said something, because Maura replied with, "I'll be there as soon as I can. I assume I should head for the ICU or NICU to find you?"

"Maura…"

"No arguing. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

Maura ended the call, and Arizona leaned over Calliope's bed, resting her head by her fiancée's hips. She fell into a troubled sleep, not waking for Bailey's checks on Calliope, or when various staff members wandered in and out. She didn't wake up until there was a soft, familiar hand on her back. Startled, she bolted upright, her neck and back aching, and saw night had fallen outside the hospital window.

"Arizona."

She turned. There stood her best friend in designer jeans and a fitted t-shirt, a large purse and a carryon in her hands, jacket draped over her arm.

"We're in the ICU," Arizona mumbled, "how did you get in here?"

"I had them page your colleague Doctor Karev, he brought me. Arizona, what do you need?"

"I need them to be okay. That's what I need." Arizona gently stroked Callie's hand, not enough to wake the tired, battered woman, but enough to reassure herself that Calliope was there, alive, breathing.

Maura studied her friend. Exhaustion was obvious on Arizona's face despite the nap she'd interrupted, her skin was pale, and a quick pinch of her arm indicated dehydration. "You need water, food, sleep, and a shower. Doctor Karev indicated that he and a Kepner have been bringing you food that you're not eating. You live in which building across the street? Nevermind. It's 502, I know that much. Give me your keys. I'll come back with some clean clothes and we'll get you settled."

"My keys are in the," her voice caught in her throat, "car." She shook her head. "I think Calliope keeps a spare set in her locker." She turned in her chair, seeing Karev hovering outside the door. "Karev! Can you go to Calliope's locker and grab her spare keys?"

"Of course, boss," he replied, face red and embarrassed to be caught in his watch over Arizona. "Be right back."

Their eyes met, and Maura was astounded at the devastation in her friend's expression. "Arizona…"

She shook her head, "Not yet, no, not yet. I have to be strong. Right now, I have to be..."

"A good man in a storm," Maura finished, softly, the oft-repeated Robbins twins maxim. "I'll get you clean clothes. When I'm back, you  _will_  take a shower and I'll sit with your fiancée. We'll start there." She patted her friend's shoulder, noticing the dust and dirt in normally well-kept blond hair. Mentally, she prepared an email to her work colleagues, notifying them of a possibly extended absence. She had the vacation time built up, and could call Dr Winters to fill in for her. Explaining to Jane would be more difficult, but asking Angela to feed Bass for her would at least be simple. Karev returned shortly, keys in hand, and Arizona pointed out the one that would unlock the front door, and then the apartment.

One last look, and Maura picked up her things to walk across the street. She found the apartment easily enough, dropping her bags next to the couch. It was like a Babies R Us had exploded, gifts from the shower piled in a corner and edging into the center of the room. The first room she checked was in the process of being turned into a nursery. A crib stood sentinel in the middle of the floor, everything covered in drop cloths in preparation for the cans of paint resting in a corner.

The second was her friend's bedroom. Opening one set of drawers she found clothing that was obviously Calliope's, and turned to the second. Knowing her friend's hyper-organized methods, she quickly pulled out two sets of clean, comfortable clothes. In the sock drawer, she went to grab a few pairs and found something solid instead. Curiosity overwhelmed her and she pulled out a small ring box hidden in the midst of sweatsocks. A beautiful sapphire, that perfectly matched the color of Arizona's eyes when she was happy, flanked by two small diamonds. The ring was simple, elegant, perfect as something Arizona would offer up on bended knee. Maura felt a quick tear sneak down her cheek. The proposal must have been off the cuff, but marriage – or domestic partnership, the closest they could get in Washington state if they weren't willing to visit her in Boston – was obviously on her friend's mind, obviously something she was planning. And now that hope for the future laid in the ICU, and the NICU. She shook her head, wiped her tears, and tucked the box back into its hiding place. Grabbing enough socks, then raiding the bathroom for basic toiletries, she threw everything into an old army duffel from the bottom of the closet. On the way out she picked up her own purse, and headed back, locking the door behind her.

X-X-X-X

Back in the ICU, Arizona hadn't moved an inch, still softly stroking Calliope's hand. Again Maura startled her friend with a soft hand on her back. "Arizona. You need to clean up. There's still debris in your hair. I'll sit with her, I promise." Arizona tore her eyes from Calliope's face, battered and bruised and still so miraculous. Even more so now that she'd survived the impossible. Like an automaton, Arizona took the proffered duffel bag. "You should have everything you need in there. Would you like Doctor Karev to stand outside the showers and keep your phone in hand? I can text with any updates, if it becomes necessary."

Arizona looked out into the hall, seeing Karev still hovering nervously at the nurses' desk. She nodded, and motioned Karev to follow her towards the attendings' locker room.

Maura took the seat Arizona had left, and studied the broken woman in the bed before her. Underneath the scrapes and cuts and surgical incisions, she was gorgeous. Previously, she'd only seen Calliope Torres over a couple of Skype conversations, coming home while she and Arizona were in the midst of catching up. The images on the computer screen hadn't done her justice at all. After a quick check of the monitors, she pulled out her phone to compose that email to her workplace. By the time she was finished, Arizona had returned, hair damp, dressed in loose jeans and an ancient Harvard Med sweatshirt over a tee. Maura quickly vacated the chair, guiding Arizona back into her seat. She could see Karev still loitering in the background, attempting to look tough and nonchalant as he mother-henned over his boss. She'd heard a great deal about Alex Karev from her friend, and decided he could be her ally in this. With a pat and a "Be back soon," she walked out to him.

"Doctor Karev, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need some help."

"Sure."

"I am completely unfamiliar with Seattle. Where can I get Arizona some food? Preferably some soup, perhaps a bit of solid food later on. And not the cafeteria. I smelled that on the way up."

"Well, Joe's down the road, it's more of a bar but he serves food. And he likes Robbins."

"Are you on shift right now?"

 

"No. Don't tell her, she'll send me home. Some of us in peds are taking turns keeping an eye on her, though. Whoever's free," he gruffed.

Maura nodded, and dug around in her purse until she found her wallet. "Here," she handed him a few large bills. "Get some soup, whatever he'll sell as takeout that's simple to eat, will hold, and get enough for Arizona, me, yourself and whomever else is helping. Oh, and water. She's not hydrating properly. I doubt you are either. I'll be here until you get back. If there's someone I can contact for help while you're running to this Joe's, let me know."

People's reactions to Maura Isles' take-charge attitude were wide and varied. Alex Karev just stared, then nodded, tucking the bills into the pocket of his lab coat. As far as he was concerned, right now Maura Isles was like an extension of Robbins, the only functional part of his mentor – he'd seen the woman before him in a picture with Robbins and a tortoise in their med school caps and gowns on her desk. He grabbed a scrap of paper from the desk, and jotted a number, "Here's the peds desk extension. We're coordinating from there. I told 'em you're here."

"Thank you, Doctor Karev," Maura's smile was wide and genuine, the first she'd given anyone since the email from Arizona. Alex flushed a little, unused to praise from someone who wasn't Robbins. He turned quickly, slouching off towards Joe's and what food he could get from the man. As she turned to head back into Callie's room, her phone vibrated with a call. Sighing, she checked the caller ID. It was Jane. With an eye firmly on Arizona from outside the door, she answered. "Hello, Jane."

"Maura, what the hell is going on?"

"Jane, please. I'm in Seattle. My best friend from medical school was in a severe car accident," she whispered.

"Seattle? Washington? Wait, is this that Nevada woman?"

Maura sighed. Jane could be difficult at times, "Arizona, yes. I know I've mentioned her before. I have the vacation time available. I don't know how long I'll be here, but likely at least a week. The situation is very precarious."

"Arizona was hurt?" Jane sounded concerned.

"Her injuries were minor. But her pregnant fiancée went through the windshield. I am here primarily to support Arizona during Callie and the baby's recovery."

"Shit, Maur… Do you need me to watch Bass?"

"I sent your mother an email about that, but if you could check on him it would be helpful. Angela tends to give him too many strawberries."

"Okay. Let me know if I can do anything. And how things are going."

"Of course, Jane. Thank you. I really must get back to them. I'll call you when I can."

"Sure."

"Good night, Jane." She hung up the phone, and watched her old friend stroke her fiancée's face gently, murmuring something to the sleeping woman. Calliope Torres, and her baby, simply had to survive, and thrive. The alternative would destroy Arizona Robbins completely.

X-X-X-X

Time seemed to slow to a stop as Arizona sat vigil at her fiancée's side. She'd spend a couple of hours with Calliope, then leave to spend a couple of hours with Baby Girl Torres, as soon as Karev or one of their group of nurses told her Mark was gone from the NICU. She hadn't realized her nurses cared so much; she'd been very careful not to sleep with anyone in her department before becoming involved with Calliope, so she knew it wasn't that. But a handful of them, the ones she worked with the most, along with Karev, kept careful watch on both her and the baby, letting her know when Mark left for an hour or two of sleep so that she could sit with the tiny, tiny life she had catapulted out into the world far too early by taking her eyes off the road.

She knew she was lucky that she was a doctor in the hospital, that she'd worked with the neonatal staff on a few cases, that some of them were helping her peds nurses in Baby & Mama Torres Watch, because if she'd been any other "lesbian lover" off the street, she never would have been able to see the baby girl, especially without Mark's permission. The "baby daddy" had been cold and angry with her the one time he walked into Callie's hospital room, despite his half-assed apology outside the OR, leaving only because Maura Isles stared him down. She had known Maura for years and never seen her as angry as she was in that moment, glaring at the man who called her friend a nothing. It had been frightening, and a little awe-inspiring, that the socially awkward, almost anti-social woman she'd befriended ages ago felt so deeply for her. Like Arizona Robbins, Maura Isles didn't love easily, or simply, but when she did, it was deep, and it was forever. In that moment, she knew that though Tim was dead, she was not without a sibling in her life.

And suddenly, she had seen even more clearly how family formed without blood being involved, that moment Maura's hand touched her shoulder, fresh from the airport and a cross-country sprint. Her attention had immediately changed from her Calliope and her girlfriend's child, to her  _fiancée_  and her  _daughter_. Before the accident, the baby had still been almost unreal, even when Calliope woke her at two in the morning to feel the first kicks and while the fact that there was life inside her lover's womb was something she'd accepted, reveled in, because even when it was a surprise, the carrying of a life inside another human body was still a miracle she found herself in awe of, she had yet to attach the label. She'd made Baby Girl Torres breathe her first breath. She'd held that tiny, still human in her hand, wet and bloody from her lover's body, and made her heart beat, and cried when she did. She had known the baby was her Calliope's daughter, and loved her simply for that – being the flesh of the woman she had pledged her heart to. She had accepted that Baby Girl Torres was also Mark Sloan's daughter, as much as she cursed it in her mind. But until Maura Isles walked into Calliope's ICU room and reminded her of the different ways in which family was made, she hadn't connected her heartfelt, honest, utterly spontaneous words – "that's my baby in there" – to the tiny human still struggling to live down the hall. Hadn't translated the somewhat theoretical "my baby" into the unequivocal reality of her  _daughter_  hooked up to all kinds of machines inside a plastic box.

So she had left Calliope under Maura's capable watch, and dragged Karev to the attendings' locker room, where she handed him her cell, and made him stand outside the showers to shout updates if necessary. She had opened her old duffel, snagged from Timothy ages ago, and found not only two sets of clothes, but a comb, shampoo, bodywash, toothbrush, and toothpaste. Ten minutes later, she'd been freshly scrubbed, and ready to deal more fully with her new reality as a fiancée, and as a mother – no matter what the law or biology or Mark Sloan said. She had thought she'd have more time to come to terms with the way her life was unfolding, but the accident had changed everything. She had, before Maura arrived, gone to sit with Baby Girl Torres to take pictures, to stand in for her Calliope's warm love that she knew her fiancée would rain down upon the child, but now she went for herself as well, and let herself finally fall irrevocably in love with the too-small, struggling life in front of her. She found that made all the difference.

Done with her shower, and having done a quick jog past NICU as Karev signaled it was clear, Arizona settled back into her watch over her fiancée. When her protégé returned later with bags of food and bottles of water, she ate for the first time in two days, and drank as much as Maura insisted. She couldn't let herself get weak, or sick, or worn out. She had Calliope and her daughter to think of now. And if her mind wandered, or forgot, she knew her sister would remind her, cajole her, into taking care of herself.

X-X-X-X

Maura had taken to managing Arizona like a duck to water, pushing her into the hospital cot Karev set up in a corner of the room for a long nap. She promised to stay awake, and one of the peds nurses would keep an eye on Baby Girl Torres while Karev caught a few hours of rest himself in the nearest on-call room. Tucking her friend in, she marveled. Motherhood had practically fallen into Arizona's lap, while she, who had long wanted a child herself, was still waiting to find someone to raise that child with. She thought of Jane for a moment, an image of a little boy or girl snuggled with her best friend on the couch, Bass slowly wandering by and Jo Friday on Jane's lap, popped into her mind. She shook her head. Her attraction to her best friend was something she struggled with, discussed only with Arizona, and tried to suppress. She'd fallen for straight women before, and wasn't about to go through that hurt again. And right now what mattered was the real love and real child of her friend, patients in this hospital.

So she pulled the thin hospital blanket over Arizona and rubbed circles on her back until the other woman fell asleep. Then she rose, and took the chair that Arizona had lived in for the past two days. She checked her email on her phone, shot off a message to her temporary replacement about current cases, another note to her lawyer to check the status of his research into Washington state adoption and custody laws, then let Jane know everyone in Seattle was stable. She passed the next hours in meditation, letting her mind quiet and concentrate on the steady noise of the monitors and the breathing of the other two women in the room. A short African-American doctor came in to check Calliope's condition, evaluating Maura silently. She assumed Dr Karev must have let those treating Calliope know of her presence. Before she left, the woman whispered to her, "Thanks for getting Robbins to take care of herself; we've been worried. If you need anything, I'm Bailey." She nodded, and Bailey left as quietly as she had come in.

The next sign of movement came four hours into her vigil, when Calliope stirred in her bed. Instinctively, Maura grasped the other woman's hand. The room was dark, in hospital night mode, and she'd switched off the light so Arizona could sleep more easily. Calliope Torres looked up at her in confusion. In the half-light, Arizona Robbins and Maura Isles were about the same in height and build, their hair almost the same length (and this had been an issue in med school occasionally, most embarrassingly at a dark club when a drunken ex-boyfriend of Maura's tried to kiss Arizona and beg for her to come back to him), but the hand that grasped hers felt wrong.

"Arizona?" she croaked, her voice still ragged and her throat raw from the intubation.

"No, I made her go to sleep," she pointed with her free hand to the corner where Arizona was curled on the cot, "She was awake for approximately fifty hours before I arrived. I'm Maura Isles. We've spoken on Skype, briefly, but I'm quite sure you're not interested in me. According to the last message from the NICU, your daughter is stable. You yourself have been stable since you woke up previously. From what Arizona told me, the accident happened on Monday afternoon. It is now rather late on Thursday."

Callie looked at this woman who was holding her hand and quietly updating her on her family. She knew the name, vaguely recognized the face from the pictures Arizona kept on her desk in the peds ward and scattered around their apartment, had shared half a dozen words over Skype with her. "How long… has she been asleep?"

"Approximately four hours. I can wake her if you like," Maura replied softly.

Callie slowly moved her head to look at her fiancée. Arizona had been broken and exhausted when she'd woken up earlier, and must have been even worse by the time Maura arrived. "No, no, she needs sleep. Water?"

"Of course," Maura let go of her hand and briskly poured a cup of water, offering it to Callie through a straw. "Be careful. Not too fast."

When she'd drunk her fill, soothed her throat a little with the lukewarm water, Callie noticed the bags of food on a table, and the duffel from Arizona's closet. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards this woman she'd just met. Arizona was stubborn, and not even Bailey could make her do anything she didn't want to. Maura Isles had to have super awesome powers. "The baby?"

"Oh! Arizona's been taking pictures when she was in the NICU for you," Maura fetched Arizona's cell phone from the bedside table. She flipped through to the correct folder, and held the screen up for Callie to see. "I haven't seen her in person, Arizona had me stay here, but the reports are overall positive. Doctor Karev and several of the pediatric nurses have been helping keep us up to date."

Callie felt the tears begin to fall as she caught sight of her tiny baby connected to so many machines, eyes covered and body so underdeveloped. But she was alive, was fighting. Her motor control almost nonexistent, she nodded each time to indicate when Maura should change the photo on display.

"I believe Doctor Karev has the most recent photographs on his phone, but I sent him to an on-call room to sleep. Shall I page him? Or I could ask one of the nurses for an update?"

Callie shook her head, "Let him sleep."

Maura nodded, "I have the number for the pediatric desk. I'll ask one of them to go to the NICU." She consulted the number Karev had jotted down for her, speaking quietly to the nurse who answered, and asked them to send the pictures to Arizona's phone. Within minutes, a relay of neonatal and pediatric nurses forwarded a current photograph to Arizona's phone. "Here, taken about two minutes ago," she held the phone up, letting Callie see. They both smiled.

X-X-X-X

Recovery from the accident took months, and Maura had to leave after a few days – there were bodies in Boston that needed her expertise, and a best friend she had to avoid kissing – so in the end it was once again Callie and Arizona together against the world, holding onto a flourishing Sofia and trying to find a happy medium in their crazy tri-parenting arrangement.

Arizona didn't mention what Mark said in the middle of their argument, and the rest of the hospital blessedly kept quiet as well, though she observed more coldness towards Mark from those who witnessed his temper tantrum or heard about it. The majority of ICU, peds, and NICU nurses avoided him completely, which Mark erroneously attributed to now having a kid. Bailey was almost noticeably avoiding him, and Arizona caught ugly looks directed his way from Kepner and Karev as well. Karev and Bailey were already friends or almost-friends, but this drew her closer to them. Kepner floundered in the months after the accident, struggling as Chief Resident, so Arizona quietly took the peppy, awkward girl under her wing in a more subtle way than she mentored Karev. Kepner wanted to go into trauma, and Arizona respected that, sharing the little tips and tricks the younger woman could use for peds trauma cases, as well as stories of her own chief resident days that imparted little nuggets of wisdom.

Part of her felt horrible about keeping the argument from her fiancée. In the early days she attributed it to not wanting to stress Calliope's already damaged body. Then days became weeks became months. She learned to deal with Mark in her home constantly, at all hours, especially in the middle of the night when Sofia was supposedly with him, but cried until her Momma rocked her back to sleep.

She was a mom, and it was beautiful, and amazing, and awesome, and super, and a thousand other adjectives for yay. Of course, she was in desperate need of sleep, and alone-time with Calliope, and some days a nice long shower, but that was to be expected. The joy she found in being Sofia's mommy overwhelmed her sometimes.

She and Sofia had the apartment to themselves. Settling her daughter on her lap, she booted up her laptop and connected to Skype.

"Say hi to Aunt Maura, Sofia!"

fin


End file.
